Close Folder: Amy
by gorgeousgossipgirl
Summary: Amelia Pond leaves Sherlock Holmes abandoned.
1. Chapter 1

"Sherlock!" Amelia Pond calls to the air. "Sherlock!"

It's September, and she's in the middle of the park after following a clue her good friend Sherlock Holmes left in her room.

"Sherlock! I know you're out there, you great git, so stop hiding!"

She looks around, and sighs, irritation building up.

"Sherlock! I'm getting angry, and it's not going to be pretty when I get angry. GET OUT HERE!"

She twirls around, and hands suddenly cover her eyes.

She sighs. "Sherlock, I know that's you."

"Shhh…" the hands respond, and she giggles lightly. "Just follow me."

"Follow who, exactly?" She asks good-naturedly.

"..The hands." And then a force behind her pushes her into a direction, and she can't seem to wipe the silly smile off her face.

* * *

><p>"I'll take off my hands, but you have to promise to close your eyes."<p>

"Fine."

"Promise, Amelia Pond."

She huffs. "I promise. Okay? Happy?"

"Very." And two warm hands take her own, and she laughs but keeps her eyes shut.

After a few metres of walking, they stop.

"Open."

And she opens her eyes, and a rather lavish picnic is set on the grass, under her two favourite trees.

In the centre stands Sherlock Holmes, holding a red rose, a shy smile on his face.

"Happy Birthday, Amelia Pond." And he offers her a red rose, and kisses her lightly on the lips.

She smiles up at him, her face radiating pure delight. "Thank you, Sherlock Holmes."

She surveys the picnic on the floor. "Is this my birthday gift? Making me follow a clue all the way to the park for a romantic picnic?"

"Wrong," Sherlock answers smugly and Amy laughs. "This is part one of your birthday gift."

"What's part two?" Amy asks, curious.

Sherlock reaches behind the oak tree, and pulls out a man. "I got Rory to dress up as your Raggedy Doctor."

Rory waves. "Hey, Amy, Happy Birthday." He laughs awkwardly. "I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"Thank you, Rory. And no, you don't. You look quite handsome, actually." She says, winking at him, then laughing when he turns bright red.

They spend the day lying around on the floor, laughing, eating. They make flower crowns for her (which apparently they've been learning to do for two months), and they have a really spectacular food fight which starts when Amy tries to shoot a grape into Rory's mouth, and hits him smack in the eye.

She leaves with her heart in the air and the taste of Sherlock's lips on hers.

Amy can't remember when she's felt happier.

Later, in the middle of the night, her imaginary friend reappears and whisks her off for an adventure.

"You'll be back by morning," her Raggedy Doctor promises.

* * *

><p>Sherlock gets up in the morning, still happy from the look of pure delight on Amy's face. He gets himself ready, makes comments about his brother's weight, grabs breakfast and leaves.<p>

He walks out his front door to find Rory just about to knock.

"Good morning, Rory." He says pleasantly.

Rory opens and closes his mouth, as if about to speak. Sherlock looks at his face.

"Something must be wrong, because you wouldn't come to get me, since we're supposed to be meeting for coffee?"

Rory opens his mouth, and the words finally come.

"Amy's missing."

* * *

><p>They run to Amy's house, hearts pounding. They knock and scream and shout, to no avail. They find the spare key under the doormat, and burst in.<p>

"AMY!" Rory shouts, frantically searching the doors on the first floor, as Sherlock flies up the stairs to check the upper floor.

"AMY!" He shouts, checking doors and closets and bathrooms, hoping, frantically hoping that she was somewhere in this big house.

"AMY!" He hears Rory downstairs. "Have you found her, Sherlock?"

"Not yet, Rory, keep looking!"

"Where?" Rory asks, and Sherlock runs into Amy's room, checking the closet, under the bed, her toy box.

Rory comes up to him a few minutes later. "She's not downstairs. Where is she? Could she have been kidnapped?"

Sherlock breathes in. "There's no sign of a break in, no broken windows, no scuff marks on the doorknob that suggests lock picks. The kidnapper could have used the spare key under the mat, however the key was dusty when we got it, suggesting it had been untouched. No sign of a struggle on the floor of her bedroom, so there was no violence involved. How did you know she's missing, anyway, Rory?"

"She's late. She's never late. You're always late for coffee with us, and she always keeps up a running commentary about how you're so fashionably late."

"Didn't you think that maybe she overslept by a bit?"

"Tried ringing her. She didn't pick up. She usually picks up. She's glued to that phone."

"Where's her phone?"

"Sorry?" Rory asks, not comprehending.

"Can you ring the phone for me, Rory?"

He does, and they search the entire room for that phone, because Amy is unlikely to have lost it anywhere else in the house.

"It's not here," Rory says, after the nth try.

"If she were missing, her phone'd be here." Sherlock says quickly. "But it's not so that means she…" He stops.

"She's what?" Rory asks. "Gone? Could she just have upped and left?"

"No." Sherlock says. "She's not gone. She's probably taken a walk and refused to answer her mobile." Sherlock and Rory both know this is unlikely.

"Sherlock, she's gone—"

"She's not gone, she's just…playing a trick on us. She'll be back soon. Let's wait."

Sherlock closes his eyes and breathes in and out, trying to dispel the worry building up inside him. He takes a seat by her bed, desperately reassuring himself that she'll come back because _Amy always comes back_.

Rory opens his mouth, blinks, and sighs. He sits beside Sherlock and pats him lightly on the back. He doesn't say a word, because words are pointless in this situation.

They wait until the sun goes down. Amy doesn't return.

"She's gone."

* * *

><p>When Amy returns, it's Rory who comes meet her. He tells her it's been six months since they saw her last, and, when that statement is directed at her companion, he sheepishly looks down and says "sometimes I miss a bit."<p>

Rory also tells her that a few months back, the Holmes boys moved to London to stay with their parents and are never coming back.

Amy takes Rory with them.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Sherlock sees Amy, he thinks he's dreaming.

He lies in bed after another cocaine overdose (_dullboringuneventful_) wondering why everybody seems hell-bent on keeping him alive when (_everything else is transport_) life was dull.

He's had his brother tell him that he'll be transferred into a rehabilitation centre within the week, another one, which will cure him of his addiction once and for all.

Sherlock knows that he'll be able to get out of the centre with a few chosen words and a lock pick, like he always does, but he doesn't dare inform Mycroft about that.

He probably already knows, though. The bastard.

He, instead, chooses to comment on how he should be honoured to have His Royal Highness, the British Government at his bedside, and asks if the recent earthquake was because Mycroft jumped.

Mycroft scoffs at him, tells him not to be a child, and leaves.

He's had the detective who caught him visit, but they never spoke.

Sherlock looks at the ceiling and desperately wishes for a cigarette.

His door opens, and a girl, with fiery red hair and green eyes, enters his room, followed by her two companions.

"Are you sure it's this way? It doesn't seem—"

The girl stops in her tracks when she sees him lying there. Amy doesn't seem like she's aged a bit.

(_Must be dreaming. Or delusional. )_

"Sherlock?" She asks quietly, as one of her companions step forward. Rory Williams. Who also doesn't seem to have aged a bit.

(_Or going insane_.)

"Sherlock? Sherlock, mate, what happened to you?" He asks as he steps forward to read the chart hanging off Sherlock's bed. Sherlock forgot he was a nurse.

He looks at them.

"Hello." The other companion steps forward. "You seem to know each other. Coincidence? Nah, nothing is. I'm the Doctor."

Sherlock doesn't say anything.

(_Note: Ask Mycroft if I can change my name into 'The Detective'. Of course I can't. Ask any way to annoy him.)_

"Cocaine overdose," he hears Rory read out to the others. He refuses to budge.

Amy looks at him. "Why would you do this to yourself, Sherlock?"

"Bored," Sherlock answers stoically.

Amy takes his hand. Sherlock marvels at how real she feels, how real she looks like.

(_Note: Dreams feel real when you're in them_.)

"Come with us," Amy offers. "You'll never be bored again."

"I hate to break it to you, Amy, but we're not allowed to move him in this condition." Rory says. "He's still resting."

"We'll come back, then." The Doctor says, cheerily. "We'll come back when you're all better."

Amy smiles sadly at him. "Hear that, Sherlock? We'll come back for you when you're better."

Sherlock shakes his head, pulls his hand away. Amy's expression is heartbreaking.

Sherlock would rather an angel Mycroft drag him to heaven when he died.

Never, ever an angel Amy.

Amy stands up and walks toward the door, stops, looks back at him, and in a blink, she's gone.

Later, when Sherlock feels much better, he thinks about the lingering scent of her perfume.

It's been five years.

* * *

><p>Sherlock's on a case when the next hallucination happens.<p>

He's retracing the victim's footsteps, mumbling to himself, when he bumps into someone.

"Oof," the girl says, and Sherlock only vaguely registers the red hair and _that_ perfume.

"Sorry…" the girl says. Sherlock's too busy looking around for clues to actually pay attention to the girl in front of him.

(_The victim was here, somewhere, right before his death. He missed something so obvious, something staring at him in the face_.)

"OI! AMY!" Sherlock hears distantly, and it takes time to click together in his mind, before his eyes widen in surprise and he looks down at the girl he bumped.

Amy is staring at him, wide-eyed and open mouthed, looking not a day over twenty-one.

"`m over here," she calls back, never taking her eyes off him.

(_Insanity. Marvelous._)

"Sherlock?" She asks, quietly, extending her hand up to touch his face. Sherlock swats her hand off and says nothing.

"How…old are you now?" She asks, tears in her eyes.

He refuses to answer.

Of course, standing beside a newspaper stand, it's easy enough to look at the date. That's what she does.

(_Observant, Amy.)_

"Amy!" He hears the distinct voice of Rory in the distance.

He jogs up to them, panting, but his eyes widening in shock as he sees Sherlock.

"Sherlock?" He asks, and Sherlock purses his lips in irritation.

(_Obvious, Rory._)

"YOU TWO! Enough with the running, already. Don't you get tired of all that running from the monsters?" The Doctor person comes up to them, in sunglasses. "Let's walk, enjoy the scenery."

He tilts down his sunglasses and looks at Sherlock.

(_Mysterious companion. How I love a mystery._)

"Hello there, Sherlock, if I'm not mistaken. Last time I saw you, you were bedridden at a hospital."

"H..He's thirty now, Rory." Amy says, quietly, and Sherlock rolls his eyes.

(_Sentiment. How boring._)

"If you'll excuse me, I've got more important matters to deal with than this." Sherlock says coldly.

A tear falls from Amy's eye, and how he wants to wipe it from her face.

(_Stop it, Sherlock. No more emotions. Emotions are boring, irrelevant and destructive. You don't have a heart._)

Rory looks like he's been slapped. Only the Doctor fellow looks completely at ease.

"Sherlock..?" Amy asks, extending her hand up. Sherlock bats it away once more.

"This is all very interesting," he says sarcastically, "but there are less trivial matters I have to deal with. Goodbye."

With that, he pushes away from them and walks. To where, he doesn't know.

He just needs to get away from all that emotion.

(_Don't look back. Don't you dare look back. Caring is not an advantage. You've given up, Sherlock. Don't look back._

_..Damn it_.)


	3. Chapter 3

"This is good Kung Pao chicken." John Watson says, from across the table.

"Their pork dumplings are better." Sherlock says nonchalantly.

It's past midnight, and Sherlock's seated across the booth from a man he'd just met yesterday, and since then, has grown to trust more than anyone he's known for five years.

John doesn't bore him, either. The man screams 'ordinary', but behind all that is a dark man, an intriguing man that Sherlock wanted to get to know more.

(_Create new folder. Rename: 'John'. Add files:_

_Licks his lips when thinking._

_Clenches dominant hand when in uncomfortable situations._

_Ambidextrous. Which is his dominant hand anyway…?_)

John laughs, and his impossibly blue eyes turn to Sherlock. Sherlock stares back questioningly.

(_Did I say that out loud…?_)

"Nothing, it's just that, for all your talk of serial murderers and dead bodies, you're actually human."

Sherlock scoffs, as if insulted, and laughs. He steals a Kung Pao chicken from John's plate and puts it in his.

"Hey! Just because you're better at using chopsticks, doesn't mean you get to nick food off my plate." John reaches over and grabs it back. He puts it in his mouth and chews it, and Sherlock smiles.

(_They must look like quite a sight, two grown men, nicking food off each other's plates._)

"Alright, fortune time!" John declares, and Sherlock can't help laugh at the childlike expression at his face.

"Dull." Sherlock says good-naturedly, and picks up a fortune cookie. "You first."

John breaks his open, takes out the slip of paper.

"'_By all means, marry. If you find a good wife, you'll be happy; if not you'll become a philosopher_.' Well that was rubbish." John laughs and eats his cookie. "Your turn."

"'_When people can walk away from you, let them walk. Your destiny is never tied to anybody who left_.'" Sherlock reads, then frowns.

John laughs. "Well that was depressing."

(_Close folder: 'Amy'._)

Sherlock offers his cookie to John, who refuses it and they leave it on the table, laughing. Sherlock looks up and sees a red-haired girl on a table about ten feet away from them, laughing with her two companions.

The laughter disappears from his eyes.

(_'Amy' Folder: Open_.)

(_CLOSE, DAMMIT_.)

"Hey, mate, you alright?" John shakes him by the shoulder.

"Fine, just fine. Can we go..?"

John looks at him, shrugs, then gets his coat.

They stand, and the people on the table turn toward them. They stop when they see him and John.

Sherlock's eyes catch Amy's.

(_Don't look at her. You_ _made that mistake once. You're smart enough to learn from them_.)

Sherlock strides on as if he didn't see anything.

"How old is he…?" Is the last thing he hears as he exits the restaurant.

John, being not-completely-unobservant, rounds up to him.

"Sherlock, who were they?"

Sherlock looks at the sky. "I don't know."

He really doesn't anymore.

* * *

><p>Three years.<p>

Three years since serial cabbies, and nicking chicken off each other's plate.

Three years since bombs, since the Van Buuren supernova, since John-strapped-to-a-semtex-vest.

Three years since that wonderful partnership of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson started.

But it's only been a year since John Watson proposed.

Or rather, suggested that they get civil partnershipped.

(_Of course. He'd do anything for John._)

(_Just like how he had been able to do anything for Amy.)_

_(Delete. Delete train of thought.)_

Sherlock fixes John's bowtie, and rolls his eyes. "Honestly, John, it's just the registrar's office. You don't have to look so formal. It's a simple event."

"I know, I just don't want to be overshadowed by my good-looking husband." John answers. "Especially in the photos."

Sherlock bats him playfully, and kisses him on the cheek. "Don't worry. You'll always look dashing to me."

"To you, maybe. To others I'll still be 'short and not dashing'."

Sherlock laughs and offers his arm. "Shall we?"

They get into a cab, and make their way to the registrar's office. They get out of the cab, laughing, and Sherlock feels blissful.

(_He hasn't felt like that since Amy._)

(_Delete._)

Sherlock looks to his right and stops. A blue police box stands, in its glory.

"Coming, Sherlock?" John asks.

"Yeah, just…what's a 1950's police box doing in the middle of the street?"

John rolls his eyes. "Another mystery?"

"I just want to know what's inside it."

Sherlock slowly makes his way towards it, ignoring the strange feeling in his chest that _he should know this_ from somewhere.

Suddenly the door opens.

"What are we doing on Earth?" A voice asks, accompanied by a swing of red hair.

Sherlock backs off as a face appears and catches sight of him.

The green eyes on the face widen. "Sherlock."

"Amy." He says, mostly from shock of seeing her again.

(_Overdrive._)

John goes behind him, and clutches Sherlock's hand in his own.

Amy gets out, eyes still locked on him, as Rory follows, and the Doctor.

"How old…?" She asks.

Sherlock can't find it in himself to ignore her anymore.

"Thirty-eight," he answers truthfully.

"Seventeen years," Amy muses sadly.

He knows what she's thinking.

(_Seventeen years since food fights and red roses and flower crowns. Seventeen years since raggedy doctor and grapes and picnics_.)

(_Seventeen years since waiting on the steps of her house for her to come back_.)

"I'm twenty-three now," she offers weakly.

"We're twenty-three now," Rory chimes in, then looks around. "Sorry."

"And I'm nine hundred and nine," the Doctor says cheerily, and when they all turn to look at him, he offers a small "What?"

Amy reaches up, and touches Sherlock's cheek gently. Sherlock allows her for a second, before he shakes his head. Amy's hand drops like lead, and she smiles.

"You're so old." She says sadly.

"You haven't changed a bit." Sherlock answers and squeezes John's hand.

"Oh, um, this is my partner, John." He gestures toward John at his side.

"Husband, actually, if we can get in the registrar's office and just make it official." John says, and shakes hands with everyone.

(_Oh John_.)

Amy laughs, but her face is still trickling with tears.

"It's me and Amy now," Rory blurts out, and he looks almost ashamedly at Sherlock.

Sherlock smiles a small, genuine smile. "As it always should have been."

Rory blinks, and offers a smile.

"We really must get going, we'll be late for our appointment," John cuts in. "But…you're welcome to watch, if you want."

Sherlock knows what he's thinking. John remembers them from three years ago, from the Chinese restaurant. But John knows better than to ask, and for that, Sherlock is grateful.

Amy nods, and the Doctor goes "Of course we'd want. Or they'd want. Actually, thinking about it, I think I'd want that too."

(_Delete irrelevant data? Yes_.)

(_Delete Amelia Pond? Never_.)

The ceremony is short and sweet; far from stoic. Amy is openly crying, tears streaming down her face, almost embarrassed when Rory tries to wipe them for her. Rory sheds a tear as well, but hides it immediately when the Doctor looks at him.

Sherlock is looking at John, and John is looking at the registrar. With their hands intertwined in between them, John knows that nothing is going to change the events from happening.

Sherlock and John kiss, and they pose for a photo. Amy comes over to hug John, and stops in front of Sherlock. She gives him a quick kiss on the lips.

It doesn't feel like it did all those years ago.

(_Add data to Folder: 'Amy'_.)

Rory congratulates them both, and the Doctor is babbling about a sort of honeymoon planet.

"We're…going to have lunch over at Angelo's," John says, smiling at them. "You're welcome to join us."

Amy shakes her head. "Nah, we've seen enough for today. We've somewhere else to be getting at, right Doctor?"

"Right." The Doctor answers, then turns to Rory. "Right what?"

"But you'll have to meet us for coffee though." Amy tells them, smiling. "Promise?"

"Promise," John says and looks expectantly at Sherlock. Sherlock huffs.

"Alright, then."

"Great. I'll see you again soon, Sherlock. It was nice seeing you again."

Her eyes, her green eyes are so sad, as she regards Sherlock with them.

"It was nice seeing you again, Amelia Pond." He smiles fondly.

It could've worked before. But it never would now.

He's grown too much.

(_Coffee date with Amy, Rory, and the Doctor. Save._)

Amy, Rory, and the Doctor turn toward the TARDIS. They begin to walk.

"By the way," Sherlock says, and Amy turns to look at him.

Sherlock smiles.

"Happy Birthday, Amelia Pond."

* * *

><p>It takes them another three years to arrive in London.<p>

To them, it feels like just a week.

Amy bounds up the stairs to the flat, which John gave her the address to three years ago.

"Yoohooo! Boys! You owe us a coffee date!"

She rings the doorbell and John answers.

"Amy! Hey!"

She hugs him, and he hugs back from surprise. John shakes hands with Rory and the Doctor. "It's good to see you all again."

"Enough of that, where's Sherlock? He owes us a coffee date and I'm not letting that go."

John goes still.

Amy bounds around the flat, peeking in bedrooms and closets. "Where's Sherlock? Sherlock!"

"Sherlock's dead." John says quietly. Everyone freezes at that.

"What..?" Rory asks.

"He's dead. He…jumped off a building and died."

"You're kidding." Amy says from her position in the flat. "Tell me you're kidding. Please tell me you're kidding."

"Amy, I…"

"He promised. He promised we'd see each other again. He promised we'd have a coffee date." Amy's eyes fill with tears. "Why would he do that? Why would he jump down a building? Why?"

"Amy.."

"I haven't even apologized to him properly for leaving him behind! I meant to take him along with me! I meant to do that!"

Amy cries, and Rory comes and hugs her. She sinks to the floor, crying. Rory cradles her in his arms whispering "shhh, it's alright."

But not even Rory can hide his tears.

"Why'd he have to die? Why'd he have to go and kill himself? Didn't he care about us?"

"Amy, listen." John crouches down, looks at Amy in the eye. Amy tries to compose herself, because it's not fair to John.

She's not the one who lost a husband.

"Sherlock Holmes was one of the smartest men I've met. And if he jumped down a building, he jumped down for a reason."

Amy cries because she knows it's true.

She cries and cries and cries, Rory cries as well, and the Doctor stands there, watching their pain.

Once she runs out of tears, John asks, "Do you want to see his grave?"

She nods, silently, and they go out of the flat.

They buy coffee first, because they all know the purpose of this visit.

They make their way to a marble headstone with the words "Sherlock Holmes" engraved on it.

"Sherlock, dear, there are some people who want to see you today." John says to the gravestone, smiling sadly.

He closes his eyes, breathes in, and smiles at Amy. His hands linger on the gravestone.

Amy steps forward. Rory and John step back to give her some privacy.

"Hey, you great git." She smiles, as the tears pool in her eyes. She wipes them off with her sleeve, because _no, she will not cry_. "You bailed on our coffee date, just like I did, twenty years ago."

She laughs.

"But don't worry. We're not letting you off the hook that easily."

She wipes her tears with the back of her hand.

"We brought the coffee to you."


End file.
